LOVE
by annabelle-small
Summary: An exploration into Don and Charlie's relationship through the years.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't know own Numb3rs or anything associated with it. This story is for entertainment only.

Author's note: This is just a set of stories exploring Don and Charlie's relationship through the years. Each chapter can be seen as stand alone pieces with just a few common themes running through them. I've tried to make the time frame in each chapter clear but they're not in any particular order.

Just a little side note. I don't know if anyone's interested but this chapter was based (vaguely) on the song Opportunity by Pete Murray.

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L for Longing

Charlie watched as his mother methodically took clothes from his wardrobe, folded them and placed them in the suitcase on the bed. Charlie had told her that he could pack his own things seeing as he was thirteen. But Margaret knew from family holidays that the Eppes men's idea of packing was to shove everything in the suitcase and sit on it until it closed. Anyway, she told Charlie, he was her baby. Charlie had rolled his eyes at that.

As he stood watching her, he felt a lump rise in his throat. Swallowing he walked over to the window, looking down on his father and brother on the front lawn. They were laughing and joking as they loaded up the car. Charlie couldn't help but feel resentful. He couldn't understand why everyone was so happy. Or maybe, why couldn't he be happy too? He could have sworn he was happy last week. Happy, excited, bubbling with anticipation. But as this day drew closer he felt all those emotion being replaced by anxiety and fear.

Last night he had gone to bed early on his mother's order's but found himself unable to sleep. He lay in bed, his mind racing. Fear and doubt taking over until he found he was unable to breath. Gasping for air he leapt out of bed and into the hall. He wanted more than anything to go out into the garage but he knew his parents were still downstairs so he settled for sitting in the hall just outside his room and started counting the cracks on the ceiling.

Suddenly he heard a voice floating down the hall. Don's voice. His bedroom door was slightly open and he was talking to someone. For a moment Charlie thought he had someone in his room with him but then realised he was talking on the phone. From his position Charlie couldn't hear what Don was saying. So getting on his hands and knees he crawled towards the open door. Settling down just beside the opening he listened closely, knowing that if he was discovered Don would skin him alive.

Don was talking to one of his best friends. Talking about how he couldn't wait until he went off to college. Couldn't wait to be out of the house and away from the family. Charlie had to blink back tears when Don joked about leaving and never coming back.

He scolded himself. Of course Don was happy. He was eighteen. Tired of being stuck at home with his little brother. Charlie should have known better than to think Don was as scared as he was.

Creeping back to his room, he hid under the covers, his breathing problems forgotten. Instead he just wanted to sink into the mattress and disappear. He spent most of the night awake, tossing and turning. His body alive with nervous energy. Every hour or so he would go to the bathroom and splash water on his face. Around three he had thought about going down and doing some work in the garage but he resolved to stay strong.

By morning he was more tired than he had been when he had gone to bed, but when his mother walked in to waking him, he dutifully got up and started getting his things ready to leave. Off to Princeton. He and his mother were leaving today. Catching a plane at 1 o'clock. Don would be staying at home another week before leaving for college on a baseball scholarship. Meanwhile Alan would remain at home, holding the fort until holidays came round and everyone would return. Or so they said, but as Charlie watching Don through the window in his bedroom, he had the feeling that something would suddenly come up preventing him from coming home.

"Charlie, are you ready to go?"

Turning back to his mother, Charlie saw that the suitcase was now closed and sitting by the door, ready to join his mother's in the back of the car. Nodding, Charlie turned to grab his backpack from the bed. He was so nervous now that he had to put himself on autopilot just to make it to the door. Stopping on the threshold he took one quick look at the bedroom before heading downstairs. He knew if he lingered too long he would never be able to leave. When he reached the front door he found Don standing just outside.

"Hey Buddy. Ready to go?"

Charlie nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"I guess this is good-bye then."

Charlie couldn't hide his surprise. "You're not coming with us?"

"No, I uh, I have stuff to do here. I'll call you though. As soon as you get settled in."

That seemed like an empty promise to Charlie and he told himself not to be disappointed when it didn't happen.

"Okay. Bye then." Brushing past Don, he could sense his older brother's surprised. Grabbing Charlie's arm he held him back.

"Hey, that's it? I'm not going to see you for months and that's all the good-bye I get?"

"What do you care?" The words surprised Charlie as much as they did Don.

For a moment the two just stood there, frozen in time. Charlie glaring off into space while Don studied him. He couldn't understand where this had come from. The week before Charlie had been so excited. Going on and on about all the things he would be doing at Princeton, about how he would finally fit in. Don thought he wanted to go.

"Charlie..."

"Forget about it."

Charlie took off again, moving too fast for Don to catch him. Once he reached the driveway he handed his dad the backpack and threw himself into the car. Margaret hugged Don good-bye, Alan having to intervene when she wouldn't let go of his neck. Once they were all safely in the car, Alan started the engine and backed out of the driveway. When they got to the road, Don made his way back inside, still confused about Charlie's behaviour. Oh well, he thought. There was nothing he could do about in now.

Sitting down in front of the TV, Don was looking forward to having the house to himself. But before he had even turned the TV on, there was a frantic knocking at the door. Getting up, the knocking turned into banging and by the time Don got to the door it sounded like someone was trying to break it down.

"All right. I'm coming. Jeez."

Opening the door, he was shocked at the sight before him. His dad's car, which had been on it's way down the street, was back in the driveway. And Charlie was standing on the doorstep, eyes red with tears. When Don appeared, Charlie threw himself at his older brother. Wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his head in Don's stomach.

Almost immediately Don could feel wetness through his t-shirt. He slowly wrapped his arms around his brother, and when he felt Charlie's grip begin to loosen, he freed himself and got down on one knee. Once he was more level with Charlie's face, he met his younger brother's eyes. Without even needing a cue, Charlie began to speak.

"I'm not going. I can't. I'll stay here and go to Calsci, and you can stay too. And we can all be together." Charlie had grabbed Don's arm. "Don, please don't go. Please. If you go you'll never come back and we'll never be family again. Please don't go."

Tears were rolling down Charlie's cheeks and he wiped at them, suddenly self conscious. Don took a minute to take in what Charlie had just said. It all seemed to come out of nowhere, but Don could tell that Charlie had been thinking a lot about it. Of course Charlie had to go. That much was clear in Don's mind. Charlie had to go to Princeton. Charlie needed Princeton. Needed to be where he belonged, and if Charlie belonged anywhere it was there.

"Chucky, you have to go." Charlie open his mouth to speak but Don stopped him. "No, listen, you have to go to Princeton and I have to go off to college. That's just the way it has to be."

Don could tell that Charlie wasn't convinced, so he tried to explain. "It's like evolution. It has to happen for us to become the people we're supposed to be." He took his brother hands. "You are going to be a great man, Charlie. You're going to do great things. But first you have to go to Princeton. They are going to do things for you, amazing things. And you're going to love it."

Charlie was crying again. Deep down he knew Don was right, but he also knew that once they left things would never be the same. They would never be a family again. He wanted to tell Don, but he found himself unable to do anything but cry.

Hugging him again, Don stood up and walked Charlie back over to the car. As he ushered him in, Charlie grabbed at Don's arm again, but Don managed to evade his brothers grip.

"Don..."

"It's okay Charlie, everything will turn out okay. You'll see."

Closing the car door, Alan was quick to start it again and get moving. He knew that if he hesitated Charlie would be back out of the car in a second.

Don watched until the car was out of sight before heading inside for the second time. When he got to the couch, he sat down and turned on the TV. Don was known for his amazing level of self control, but at that instance he felt closer to breaking down than ever before.


	2. Chapter 2

O for Obligation

Five year old Don could barely contain his excitement. Standing by the front window, hopping from one foot to the other. His mum was coming home today, and she was bringing baby Charlie with her. Don had only seen Charlie once and he had been sleeping. Lying on his back, his little arms and legs moving every now and then. Don had been allowed to touch one of Charlie's tiny hands. It had curled instinctively around Don's finger and squeezed lightly. He had stared wide eyed at the tiny figure in the cot, not quite believing that it was his little brother.

That had been two days ago and now they were on their way home. Alan had spent the day in a frenzy cleaning the house from top to bottom. Don had tried to help but had been so worked up with anticipation that he caused more mess then he cleaned. Every five minutes or so, he would run from one end of the house to the other, checking to see if they had arrived yet. Alan had told him repeatedly that he was the one who was going to pick them up so they couldn't come home until he went to get them, but Don was so excited that he forgot the words as soon as they were in his head.

When Alan finally left for the hospital and Mrs Wallace from next door came to watch Don, he planted himself in front of the window and didn't move until he saw the car pull up the driveway. The excitement overwhelmed him suddenly and he squealed with joy, startling poor Mrs Wallace. He ran to the front door, jumping up to pull on the handle. Once it was open, he could see his dad walking towards him carrying a bag, and behind him, his mum, holding what looked like a bundle of blankets.

"Hey, Donny."

Alan dropped the bag just inside the door and scooped Don up in his arms. From higher up, Don could see the bundle in his mum's arms had a shock of black hair, and leaning closer he could see Charlie's face just peaking out, his eyes half closed.

"Baby Charlie."

"That's right Donny, Charlie's just a baby. You have to be careful with him because he's only very small."

Alan's words barely registered in Don's mind, he was so caught up with the idea of his little brother finally being home. Not that they needed to. From that moment on Don knew that he could never do anything to hurt his little brother.

As the months passed, Don's affection to Charlie grew. It got to the point where Margaret couldn't do anything to Charlie without Don being present. Feeding, bathing, even changing his nappy, Don insisted on being told about every movement of his baby brother. When Don started school, he and Alan would fight every morning, Don begging for just five minutes more to spend with Charlie. The school even complained about Don being late everyday.

The questions also became a problem. Younger children are known to ask lots of questions, but Margaret found that she was spending more time explaining what she was doing than actually doing it. And Don wouldn't be persuaded.

At bath time he would pepper his mum with questions.

"Why are you holding his head?" "Why can't we put him in the big bath?" "Can we put him in the sink?" "When do babies learn to swim?" "Can I teach Charlie to swim?"

At dinner time Don would practically sit on Margaret's knee, his face close to Charlie's own as his little brother chewed on mashed up food.

"Why do you have to make his food mushy?" "Can you make my food like that, too?" "Can baby's have chocolate cake?" Can I give Charlie chocolate cake?" What if I mash it up?" "Can I have chocolate cake?"

Don's attachment to Charlie was so strong that Margaret would frequently find Don sleeping in the rocking chair in Charlie's room, instead of his own bed. And whenever Charlie start crying Don would get so worked up that Alan would have to take him outside to calm him down.

Then one morning when Margaret, Charlie and Don were playing together in the lounge room, Margaret received a phone call. After placing Charlie on the couch surrounded by pillows, she walked just out of sight. Two minutes later as she finished up, a high pitch scream came out of the other room.

Rushing back in she found Don standing by the couch where Charlie had been, wringing his hands, tears in his eyes, jumping up and down, clearly distressed. Charlie was out of sight and as Margaret walked round the couch she saw that he was now lying on the floor, cushioned by the pillows she had placed there before taking the call. He was gargling happily, unaware that he was now two feet lower than before.

Picking Charlie up with one arm Margaret put the other around Don and guided him to the couch. Whispering soothing words she managed to calm Don down with a little help from Charlie. He seemed oblivious to his older brother's anxiety. Leaning over Margaret's lap he grabbed at Don's nose, catching it momentarily before Don swatted his hand away. Charlie giggled with delight.

"Donny, Charlie wants you to know he's okay. Donny." Margaret pulled him closer and stroked his hair. Don tried to pull away but Margaret held him close. "What's wrong?"

Don scowled and looked away, and Margaret could tell that he was trying not to cry. She found it strange that her eldest could cry so easily when someone else was in trouble but when it came to his own emotions he would shut down immediately.

Stifling a sob, Don turned to look at his mum. "He could have died."

Margaret had to hold back a laugh. "Donny, Charlie's fine."

"But he could have been hurt. He's only a baby. He can't take care of himself. What if something happens to him?"

Don looked up at Margaret with tears in his eyes and Margaret's heart melted at his concern for his little brother. She leaned down and kissed him on the head.

"How can anything happen to Charlie when he's got you as a big brother?"

That night just before going to bed, Margaret went to check on Don, not surprised to find his bed empty. Next she went to Charlie's room, chuckling to herself as she surveyed the room. Charlie was fast asleep in his cot while Don was curled up on the rocking chair, covered in a blanket. A small plastic hammer clutched in his right hand, ready to fight off anyone who tried to hurt his little brother.


	3. Chapter 3

V for Volatile

Author's note: I'm sorry about the big gap between updates. They've stopped showing _Numb3rs_ where I live (Sydney) so I've had to re-watch my taped episode for inspiration. Although once I started writing I couldn't stop, so this chapter is about twice as long as the previous ones. Enjoy.

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"Don, please open the door. Don. I'm sorry for whatever I did. I'll never do it again. Don. Don, open the door. Pleeaasse."

Don listened as Charlie thumped on the door a few more times and then there was silence. Don knew the silence would last for about ten minutes before the begging and banging would start again. One good thing about Charlie was that he was predictable. Charlie liked patterns.

This particular pattern had been going on for days. Don knew it was his fault. Knew that with one word the whole thing would be over. But as annoying as Charlie was, Don wasn't ready to let it go just yet. So he turned up his music and laid back on the bed, while just outside Charlie leaned up against his brother's door, silently begging him to open it.

It had started three months ago, when Charlie started attending the same high school as Don, even though Charlie was only ten and Don was five years older. Don had tried to argue. He didn't care if Charlie went to high school, but he couldn't see why he had to go to the same one as him. His mum explained that it was hard for Charlie to start high school so young and having Don around would help him.

So Don went back to school and Charlie went with him. They walked together, Charlie talking the whole way. Asking Don questions about what high school was like. Don answering with a simple 'yes' or 'no' or even just a grunt. At first Charlie had tried to hold Don's hand but Don quickly put an end to that.

"Kids who go to high school don't hold hands." He spat, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Charlie nodded silently and forced himself to remember that. He had so much to learn. Everyone was going to be grown up and he didn't want to be seen as a baby. He was glad Don was with him. Don would show him round and help him when he got lost. Don would protect him. Charlie was glad he had a big brother.

Don, however, had different ideas, dumping Charlie at the front gates he ran off with a group of boys from his baseball team. His last words to his brother, "Meet me back here after school. Don't be late." And with that ten year old Charlie was left alone on his first day of high school. Luckily he was able to find a teacher to help him and somehow managed to make it through the day and be back to meet Don almost on time. They walked home in silence.

The next few days proceeded in the same fashion, until poor Charlie couldn't take it anymore and finally told is mum the truth. Everyday he would tell her that school was great and that everyone was really nice to him, when in reality he dreaded going to school. Dreaded the looks he would get from the other teenagers. Dreaded Don's hostile silence. Charlie told her all this while sobbing quietly. Margaret wanted to call the school but Charlie begged her not to. Although he couldn't stop her from giving Don an earful.

From that day on Don walked Charlie to his locker and then to his first class. He would even pop up every now and then to make sure Charlie was okay. Make sure that he got his lunch and that no one was picking on him.

To any outsider it would have seemed like a perfect relationship but Charlie knew better. He knew Don hated having to look after him. Don didn't even have to say anything. In fact it was what Don didn't say that tipped Charlie off the most. Don was polite but never said anything really nice, Never congratulated Charlie when he did well on a test. Never called him 'Buddy'. They never had any physical contact at school. Charlie wasn't allowed to hug Don. Don never messed with Charlie's hair or squeezed his shoulder affectionately.

In the beginning Charlie could live with it because it was only when they were at school. At home their relationship seemed the same as always. But as the weeks went on Charlie began to notice Don's behaviour crossing over to when they were at home as well. He stopped paying attention to Charlie, started spending more time in is room or at his friend's place. Then Don stopped talking to him.

That's how Charlie ended up sitting outside Don's room begging to be let in. Don knew it wasn't fair. He was punishing Charlie for something that he had no control over. Charlie hadn't asked to be a genius. But Don was angry, growing angrier everyday and if he didn't direct it at someone he felt like he would burst.

Charlie had invaded his world and no one seemed to care. They were too busy worrying about Charlie. Well if he was such a baby then why wasn't he at baby school? Don only had two things over Charlie: baseball and being older. And if Charlie was at the same school as he was, in the same year, then what was the point of being older? It wasn't fair.

Don hadn't even realised he was acting differently but as Charlie became more and more desperate, Don began to realise something. He had a sort of power over Charlie. Charlie needed Don. Needed his praise and approval, and the more Don refused to give it, the more he needed it. As the weeks went on Don realised that he wanted Charlie to needed him. He needed Charlie to need him. He liked keeping Charlie on a string, knowing that just one word of encouragement, one pat on the head, would make Charlie's day. Make Charlie's week.

So Don kept him waiting. And Charlie's need grew. It got to the point where Charlie would have loved Don to even yell at him. To give him some kind of recognition. Some sign that he still mattered. As the stand-off continued the tension in the house grew until it got to the point where it felt like it would explode. And then one day it stopped. Like a faulty grenade the explosion never came.

One day instead of Charlie being stationed outside Don's door as usual he shut himself away in the garage and didn't come out. At first Don thought it might just be a ploy. A way of getting him to come out of his room. But as the days went on nothing changed. Charlie spent more and more time out in the garage and when he was finally forced back into the house, Don could tell he wasn't really there. He would babble about equations and ratios and other things Don couldn't understand. He got clumsy, well clumsier than usual. Knocking things over as he raced back out to the garage, mumbling about breakthroughs. He would barely touch the food put in front of him and seemed to be in his own little world, untouched by the real world around him.

After a while he even stopped coming in to eat. At first Alan refused to let Margaret take food out to him, saying they weren't going to upset the family routine for him. But after his already slight son started losing weight he relented and Margaret was allowed to take him his dinner. Although Don knew that his mum had been sneaking Charlie food for days.

Don knew he should be happy that his little brother wasn't trying to annoy him anymore but with Charlie gone his need for Don was also gone. And after a while he even started to worry about Charlie. He knew his parents were worried too. Margaret wanted to take him to see someone.

"What he's doing isn't normal."

"This is Charlie we're talking about." Alan wasn't as worried as Margaret, he just assumed it was a phase and Charlie would get over it sooner or later. Although it seemed like it was going to be later as Charlie asked for more blackboard and Margaret had to start buying chalk in bulk.

The garage, truly Charlie's domain now, was filled with blackboards. They covered the walls up to the ceiling. They were even on the ceiling. A ladder positioned in the middle of the room to help Charlie reach those out of his ten year old grasp. As he had run out of room Charlie had even started to write on the floor, leaving only a narrow walkway. That was what Alan saw as he went to call in his son for dinner. It was the last straw for him. He knew it was important to nurture Charlie but this was going to far.

Dragging a protesting Charlie out by his arm, Alan put his foot down. Pulling out a chair he forced Charlie to sit.

"You're eating with the rest of us."

"No." Charlie was up and across the room before Alan could stop him.

Margaret and Don emerged from the kitchen. Don watching the confrontation with awe. He could tell Alan was in one of his moods and when Alan was in one of his moods you kept your mouth shut and did what he said. More amazing to Don was that he was angry at Charlie. He had only ever seen his dad angry at him. He knew that Alan found Charlie trying at times but he had never even raised his voice to his younger son. And yet there the two of them stood. Face to face in confrontation. Both brimming with anger and righteousness. Both seemingly ready to fight to the death. Don had to admire Charlie for his bravery. He also knew Charlie was going to get his arse kicked.

"Go up to your room."

"No." Charlie stood his ground. He had to make his dad see that he was serious. If he didn't he'd be crushed like a bug. Anyway if was about time his dad treated him like a grown up. Even though Alan and Don fought all the time Charlie knew there was mutual respect between them. Charlie wanted that too. Wanted his dad to see that the numbers were more than just ideas in his head. They were real things and they were important.

"Go up to your room now or you're grounded."

Charlie didn't move. Didn't say a word. Margaret could see that it was only going to end in tears, and took the initiative.

"Why don't we all sit down and eat? Don, would you get the plates? Charlie, you can help him. Alan."

The last word was a warning and as inviting as Margaret's instructions seemed, no one moved. Don didn't know what anyone else was thinking but he was afraid that if he made any movement it would startle Alan and he would come after him.

"Alan." Margaret tried again.

"Charlie..." Alan started but Charlie was gone. Back out into the garage.

Don took the moment of confusion to dart back into the kitchen, out of the line of fire. He couldn't hear the exact conversation his parents had but he could tell that it consisted mainly of Margaret trying to stop Alan from going out and killing Charlie. Or at least that's what Don imagined.

"Oh man, Charlie's so dead." He chuckled. He couldn't help feeling slightly elated that Charlie finally knew what it was like to feel Alan's wrath.

After hearing a door slam, Don ventured back out to find Margaret staring helplessly at the front door.

"Where's dad?"

"Your father's gone for a walk."

Don could tell his mum was upset. He walked over to her but didn't know what to do. Should he hug her, or hold her hand, or just pat her shoulder? Sensing her son's discomfort Margaret made an effort to smile and put her hand up to brush a stray hair from Don's face.

"Can you take Charlie his dinner?"

Don nodded. He'd do anything to be out of the awkward situation.

The week progressed as normal. Well as normal as it could be and friday rolled around. On every second friday Margaret and Alan would go out together on a date. They would go to a nice restaurant or see a movie. It was a tradition. On this particular friday Margaret didn't want to go. Charlie's 'condition' seemed to be worse than ever and she was worried about leaving him alone. Alan pointed out that it was just one night and Don would be there too.

"Anyway the worst thing that can happen is that we find him exactly how we left him."

Margaret reluctantly agreed, making Don promise to at least try to get Charlie to eat something while they were out. Don was looking forward to having the house to himself. His parents had only started leaving him in charge after he turned fifteen. Because of Margaret's worry, Alan had offered to get a baby-sitter but Don had protested noisily. Promising to take care of Charlie and make sure he didn't do anything crazy. Although secretly Don wonder how he was supposed tell the difference between a normal Charlie and a crazy Charlie.

After his parents left, Don took advantage of the empty house. Quickly looking in on Charlie, he then settled down in front on the TV. By the time he looked up at the clock it was almost eight. Cursing, he rushed into the kitchen and served out two plates of meatloaf. After pouring a glass of juice he took the food out to Charlie.

Like he had suspected Charlie was in pretty much the same position as he had been the last time Don looked. Although now that he got a better look, Don had to laugh. Charlie was covered in chalk. From head to toe covered in a thin layer of white dust. It had turned his red t-shirt a pinkish colour and his black curly hair looked almost grey. He also had big white smudges on his face and his hands were completely white. In a strange, geekish kind of way he looked completely wild.

"Charlie."

He turned like a startled animal when Don called his name. Staring at his older brother with huge brown eyes, Don felt a twinge of concern. Charlie didn't look well. He was pale (although it could have been the chalk) and his face was covered in a layer of sweat even though it wasn't that hot. Beneath his bloodshot eyes, Don could see dark grey smudges. What scared Don the most was that it was only after taking all this in that he realised he was looking at a ten year old. Charlie's behaviour and demeanour over the past weeks had been so grown up that he had forgotten his little brother was still, well, little. He was only a kid and yet he seemed to be going through some kind of nervous breakdown.

"Dinner's ready. Do you want to eat it out here?"

Seeming to realised there was no danger imminent, Charlie shrugged and turned back to his work.

"Hey, why don't you come inside and we can eat in front of the TV. I'm sure there's some kind of game on."

Charlie didn't respond, scurrying over to one corner to write furiously before returning to his original position. Don moved a little closer to his brother, careful not to make any sudden movements. Charlie seemed to forget he was even there. As he got closer Don could see that the hand Charlie was writing with was shaking slightly. And as he moved to see Charlie's face he saw tears in his eyes.

"Charlie..." Don put a hand on Charlie's shoulder, but he scooted away. He turned his back but Don could see he was trying to brush away the tears.

"I'm fine. Just go."

Walking over to where Charlie now stood Don tried again to comfort him. "No, you're not."

Again Charlie ducked away but this time he turned to face Don. "What do you care anyway? You just think I'm annoying."

"Charlie, I don't think you realise how crazy you're acting."

That made Charlie laugh for some reason. "Crazy? You only think it's crazy because you don't understand it. You're too stupid to understand it."

At Charlie's last sentence Don took a step forward involuntarily. There was a vindictiveness in Charlie's voice that he had never heard before.

"You take that back, or..." Don left the threat hanging.

"Or what?" Charlie spat back.

Don realised Charlie wasn't going to go down easily and he knew if they kept going like this one of them was going to get hurt, and it was probably going to be Charlie. So he made an effort to calm down. Charlie's only a kid, he told himself. And he hasn't slept in days. He's obviously a little cranky.

"Okay Charlie, have it your way. I'm going to watch TV, if you need anything just come get me." Turning his back on his brother Don crossed the room, stopping just as he reached the doorway. "I just hope this," he waved towards the chalk scribble, "is as important as you think it is."

Walking out, Don could hear Charlie yelling after him. "It is. It's more important than you or anyone..." his voice fading as Don moved into the house.

Shaking his head, Don couldn't quite believe how unhinged Charlie was. No wonder his parents were worried, Don hadn't realised it was so bad. Maybe he did need to see someone. After spending some time debating whether or not to tell his parents about what had happened, Don tried to get the whole thing out of his head.

About an hour later as Don was starting to nod off, his brain registered a shuffling sound coming from behind him. Sitting up he turned and saw Charlie teetering on the threshold of the lounge room. He was looking at the ground and swaying from side to side. Worried that he was having some kind of episode, Don stood up.

"Charlie, are you okay?"

In the dark Don could just see Charlie shake his head slightly. Well, thought Don, at least he's responsive. Going out on a limb, Don held his arms out. "Charlie, come here."

And Charlie did. Walking slowly, his head still down, he made his way over to Don. Stopping just in front of him, Charlie mumbled something Don couldn't hear.

"What? I can't hear you."

Raising his voice Charlie spoke again. "I'm sorry."

He still wouldn't look at Don and in an attempt to look at his face, Don put his hand under Charlie's chin and lifted his head. Charlie was crying. His eyes were red, raw with tears and exhaustion. Making sure Charlie was looking into his eyes, Don spoke.

"It's okay. I'm not angry. I guess we're all just a little fed up really." As Charlie tried to drop his head again Don kept him in place. "I'm sorry too. For being such an idiot about school. It wasn't very fair."

Charlie smiled slightly at that, and taking him by the shoulder Don gently pushed Charlie down to sit on the couch, setting himself next to him. Wrapping an arm around his small brother Don held Charlie close.

Sniffling slightly Charlie spoke. "I didn't mean what I said. It's not more important."

"I know. But you have to be careful what you say. If you said that kind of stuff to mum, she'd be really upset. It's okay with me because I know you don't mean it."

Charlie looked up at Don, "How do you know?"

Don smiled. "It's a brother thing."

Charlie smiled too and let his head drop to Don's shoulder. Don couldn't believe how tiny Charlie seemed, but then he was only ten. Don thought it was strange that he had to keep reminding himself of his brother's tender age. He guessed having to interact with older people all the time had taught Charlie ways of behaving that were far beyond his age. And because of his intelligent people tended to treat Charlie like a grown up when really he was only a child.

"You don't have to be a grown up you know. Just because other people treat you like one, it doesn't mean you can't be a kid sometimes. If you want to."

Charlie gave Don a curious look before burying his head once more in Don's shoulder. "They treat you like a grown up."

Don laughed. "That's because I am a grown up."

"You're only fifteen."

"And you're only ten."

Charlie punched playfully at Don's leg, and Don pretended to wince in pain.

"Ow, hey. The point is there's lots of time to be grown up but you're only a kid for a short time."

Charlie's reply was muffled by Don's shirt as he began to relax again. "But you're a grown up."

Don looked down at his brother's form. "So?"

"So I wanna be like you."

Don had to take a deep breath at that. He always suspected Charlie idolised him. It's what little brothers did. But to hear it out loud was something else. He was filled with a warm feeling, and struggled to think of something to say. Instead he settled for wrapping his arm around a increasingly sleepy Charlie, and messing gently with his hair. Don smiled as he heard Charlie sigh happily. After a few moments of silence Charlie spoke.

"Can I have some coffee?"

Don was pulled out of his happy daze. "What? No. Coffee's the last thing you need right now." Charlie stretched his legs out before curling them against Don's. Don smiled. "Anyway, you can't have coffee until you're a grown up. And you are definitely not a grown up." Charlie didn't hear the end of Don's sentence, he had fallen asleep, but Don made a note to tell him later.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: First of all, I'm really sorry about the huge wait for this chapter. It wasn't from lack of ideas. My real life has been a little crazy these past weeks and seeing as this was the only piece of writing I wasn't getting marked on, it fell to the bottom of my 'to do' list.

This chapter jumps around a lot so I hope it's not too hard to follow. It's slightly different to the other three because I wanted to sum them up in this chapter without just going over what I'd already written. I experimented a little on the form but I'm pretty happy with the final product. The song used is _I'll say I'm sorry now _by _Shawn Colvin_.

Also, just a quick reminder, in my world Don and Charlie are five years apart.

Enjoy.

E for Enduring

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_I'm gonna let you down_

_I know that now_

_Make you cry, I know I will_

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Six year old Don, peeked his head round the doorway of Charlie's room. Margaret was cradling the small boy in her arms, rocking back and forward on the rocking chair. The only sound a harsh coughing that stopped and started spasmodically.

Creeping slowly into the room, Don coughed himself, alerting his mother to his presence. In truth Margaret had known her oldest had been watching them for quite a while, and now smiled at her advancing son.

Seeing her beckoning smile, Don moved closer. Stopping just in front of the chair, peering at his restless brother. Charlie was flushed, his little eyes screwed up in discomfort, a single tear track running down his cheek. Opening his mouth, the coughing started again. Charlie's little body heaving with the effort.

Once the coughing fit was over, Charlie whimpered slightly, turning his body towards his mother's. Don looked on silently. He knew Charlie was sick. Charlie had been sick for almost three days now. Nothing to worry about, just a bad cold. Don didn't think Charlie was going to die or anything, but still he couldn't push away the feeling that Charlie was in danger.

Charlie's skin was as hot to touch as it looked and Don couldn't help but look up at his mother in anxiety. She just smiled down at him, seemingly unfazed by what was happening to the small boy in her arms. Wasn't she worried?

Then Charlie started crying. It wasn't a hysterical cry, he was too tired, too uncomfortable for that. Just a soft whimpering noise, signalling his unhappiness. Squirming away from Margaret, arms and legs going everywhere, Charlie finally found himself facing his brother. Growing quiet for a moment, Charlie gazed at Don intently.

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_And why should you believe_

_I would never leave_

_Or that I'll love you still_

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"Hi. You've reached the Eppes residence. We're not in at the moment so could you please leave a message after the beep."

Beep.

"Hey, it's Don. I just wanted to call and say that I'm really sorry about missing Charlie's graduation. Something came up at work, and well, couldn't be helped really. Congratulation anyway, Doctor Eppes. I'm real proud of you buddy. And hey, I should be able to get some time off over Christmas, so I'll see you then. Um, miss you all. Bye."

"Damnit."

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_For all the by and by_

_And hard as we try_

_The bough breaks and the cradle falls_

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Eight year old Charlie sat sprawled out on the carpet of the lounge room. Surrounded by paper and coloured pencils he mumbled happily to himself. In the back of his mind he sensed it was almost five, and that meant that Alan and Don would be home soon.

Almost on cue, the front door opened and he could hear as his father and brother entered. Charlie's first thought was to leap up and throw himself at his returning brother. But Charlie had learnt that Don sometimes got angry when he was too enthusiastic. It was better to let Don find him. Even though it went against every nerve in his younger brother body.

Finally after what seemed liked eternity, but was in fact only two minutes, Don found his way to his younger brother.

"Hey Charlie." Don knew Charlie was restraining himself. He smirked as the younger boy only murmured in response to his greeting.

Settling himself down beside Charlie, Don picked up a piece of discarded paper. It was covered in pink and green scribbles. To untrained eyes it would have meant nothing, but living with a child prodigy had taught Don a few things. He knew the 'scribbles' were actually part of some mathematical equation that made sense to only a handful of people in the world, his brother included.

Holding the paper up to the light, he pretended to appraise it, as you would a priceless painting.

"I like your use of colour. It enhances the sense of otherworldliness."

Charlie looked up at Don, not quite getting his brother's joke. For a moment he hesitated. "You like it?"

Don laughed softly, "Yeah I do."

Charlie studied the paper, nodding at the 'scribbles' in an understanding that Don would never have. He looked back at Don with a look of confusion. "Do you understand it?"

Don laughed out loud this time, nudging at Charlie playfully. "Of course not, Genius."

Charlie's confusion only seemed to deepen. "Then why do you like it?"

Don studied his brother closely. He thought about telling Charlie he had just been joking, but the kid could take it the wrong way. He could complement the picture, but that would probably just cause Charlie to try to explain it to him, and he didn't have the time for that. So instead he opted for the safe option. The option that Charlie couldn't argue with.

"I like it because you did it. And you know what, I'm going to put it up on my wall."

Speechless, Charlie stared at Don, unable to communicate as his heart melted with joy.

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_For everything I do_

_That will tear at you_

_Let me say, I'm sorry now_

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Charlie knew he shouldn't go into Don's room. Don had told him time and time again. But for some reason Charlie couldn't resist. He never touched anything. Well, sometimes, when he couldn't help himself. But mostly he would just stand in the middle of the room. Sometime he would sit. Sometimes he would even close his eyes for a moment, just soaking in the feel of the room. Usually no one caught him. Usually he was in and out in just a few minutes. A little longer if he went through a few draws.

Today was a little different. Today he had an excuse to be in Don's room. Well it wasn't really an excuse. Not a very good one, but if he was discovered it might just save him from being yelled at. Charlie was in Don's room to see if he had put up Charlie's drawing.

Sneaking into the room, Charlie quietly closed the door behind him. Don was in the shower so he had some time, but could just as easily get into trouble if he was discovered by one of his parents. Walking into the middle of the room he began inspecting the walls. He couldn't see it. The only things covering the walls were baseball posters. His drawing was nowhere in sight.

Next he checked the back of the door and even the backs of the wardrobe doors. Nothing. Just as Charlie started to get disheartened he had a thought. Maybe Don had it at school. Maybe he liked it so much he put it in his locker. Happy that this was the explanation, Charlie walked back towards the door. Halfway there something caught his eye, something green and pink.

Stopping he turned towards the bed. He had found his drawing. It was sitting wedged between the bed and the bedside table. Obviously dropped there, discarded by Don.

Don hadn't wanted it after all. He'd only said he did to please Charlie.

Somewhere in the back of his head, a little voice told Charlie that it was okay. It was just a drawing, it wasn't a big deal. And it wasn't even a very good drawing, just an collection of symbols. It didn't mean anything to Don. Only Charlie knew it's meaning. He couldn't expect Don to understand.

Charlie quickly left the room. He left so quickly that he failed to notice the space above Don's bed. The space that just happened to be that same size as the paper on which Charlie drew. Failed to notice the four pieces of sticky tape attached to each corner of the paper. Failed to notice the sentence written in Don's hand writing across the bottom.

Charlie aged 8.

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_So you can sing your song_

_You can get it wrong_

_You could kiss the rock of ages_

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Don looked down helplessly, smiling his bravest smile, reserved only for his little brother. Sensing nothing was happening, Charlie began to cry again. Tears rolling down his cheeks. Sticking his little arm out, Charlie grabbed at Don. At first Don didn't understand what he was doing, then realised Charlie was trying to grab his hands. Offering his biggest finger to Charlie, the smaller boy squeezed it tightly, pulling Don closer.

Don felt tears in his own eyes, but blinked them back self-consciously. Looking back up Margaret, Don voiced his fears. "Mummy, what does he want me to do?"

Looking down at the obviously distressed one year old, Margaret sighed.

"I think he wants you to make him better."

Don balked at that. Looking from Margaret to Charlie and back again. "Why?"

"You're his big brother Don, to Charlie you can do anything."

Don looked from Margaret to Charlie and back again. He suddenly felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. Charlie expected Don to save him. That was his job as a big brother. But Don didn't know how.

"Maybe I could kiss him better. Like you do when he falls over and hurts himself."

Margaret smiled at her eldest and nodded her head. "I think that's a great idea."

Breathing in deep, Don looked back down at Charlie. "Charlie, Charlie," he called quietly, trying to get the younger boy's attention. Charlie turned his head to look at Don, tears drying on his face.

Slowly Don bent down and placed a soft kiss on Charlie's forehead. For a moment there was silence. Margaret, Don and Charlie waited in anticipation. Then suddenly Charlie sneezed, Don jumped and Margaret sighed as Charlie began to bawl, for real this time.

Don looked on petrified, as Charlie began to scream, thrashing around in Margaret's arms, before finally succumbing to exhaustion and settled into a soft whimper again. Whispering soothingly to Charlie, Margaret looked up at Don in sympathy.

"I guess a brother's love can't cure the common cold."

And Don ran from the room.

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_And in your wildest dreams_

_You might see between_

_The liars and the sages_

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"This is Don Eppes. I'm not available right now, so leave a message."

Beep.

"Hi Don. How are you? Oh, it's Charlie by the way. Just in case you didn't recognise me. Anyway, I'm just calling to say we got your message. Don't worry about missing graduation, it wasn't very interesting. Mum cried a lot. Dad was really embarrassed, it was kinda funny. About Christmas, Mum wants you to call her as soon as you get this, she needs to clean up your room, we've been using it as storage. I told her that Christmas is months away but you know Mum. We all hope you can make it. We miss you heaps. Well, I should go before...

Beep.

"Damnit."

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_You could walk awhile_

_Down the mystery mile_

_you can beat the drums of freedom_

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Don sat in the living room of his father's house. Charlie's house. Drinking beer and watching a game. He was about as content as he could be. It was late, too late to be doing much of anything, but still too early to think about going home. He was happy here, might as well make it last. Allowing his eyes to drop slightly, he sighed happily, feeling every muscle in his body relax.

He turned his head so he could see Charlie who was sitting on the armchair, a pad of paper on his knees and a pencil in hand. He also had another pencil tucked behind his ear. On the floor surrounding him were about a dozen textbooks, all open, all ready to be picked up when needed and then discarded again.

Charlie's long curly hair obscured his face and Don wondered how he could stand it. Subconsciously he raised his hand to run it through his own short hair. Sensing the movement Charlie looked up, brushing the curls from his face so he could see his brother. Smiling curiously, Charlie eyed his brother.

"What?"

Don feigned innocence. "What?"

"What are staring at?"

"Nothing."

Charlie regarded his brother for another moment before going back to his work. Don went back to watching the game, although he didn't really know what was going on. After a few more minutes of relative silence, Don went back to staring at Charlie. Deliberately trying to put Charlie off. Slowly a smile formed on what Don could see of Charlie's face. But he didn't look up.

"What?"

"What?"

"Don..."

"What?"

Charlie was frustrated now. Looking directly at Don, trying not to laugh. Don didn't show the same amount of restraint, chuckling softly.

"Go back to your work, genius."

"It's not funny."

"Then why are you laughing."

Charlie tried to wipe the smile from his face but wasn't very successful. The result was a look very close to constipation. And that only made Don laugh harder.

Thoroughly fed up, Charlie dropped the pad of paper to the ground, moving to get up. Seeing this, Don managed to control himself.

"Charlie wait, don't go."

"Why?" Charlie mumbled. "You're just going to laugh at me."

Don coughed back a laugh. "I won't do it anymore. I promise." Charlie hesitated. "Come on, I want you to stay."

As if Don had said the magic words, Charlie smiled coyly. "You do?"

"Of course I do. Now sit your ass down."

With barely a moments thought, Charlie threw himself down next to Don, causing Don to bounce on the cushions. That wasn't what Don had in mind.

"Jeez, careful."

Settling in, Charlie put his head back against the couch. His books forgotten, just happy to be in his brother's company. "Who's winning?"

Don looked at the TV contemplating his answer. "I have no idea."

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_And in love and war_

_Through the rush and the roar_

_You just call 'em like you see 'em_

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A/N: Just as a finally note I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed. Your comments make me very happy : )


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